I rode LL’s bike into town.
It’s rather small and I had
to put the seat way up.

LL is a short arse very petit
and cute and her bike is correspondingly
petit and cute. Fortunately there is no
basket and ribbons on the handlebars.

I rode to the race bike specialists
and locked LL’s bike out front.
The guys were watching me with
half-grins from inside. I went in
and started throwing technical jargon
around like I had an armful of Frisbees
and one of the wrenches asked me cautiously
if I really wanted to put TT brake levers
on my bike. Uh, that’s actually my wife’s
bike, I said. Ha! Ha! He looked relieved; he
was worried there for a minute I think.

_{Crazy American waves arms around in the
shop wanting weird shit done and rides off
on this toy bike with his knees up to his
ears when he pedals.}

))){